Michael... the first accusations

The music in the Bangkok rehearsal room suddenly stopped, leaving behind a deafening, oppressive silence. The dancers exchanged confused glances, and frightened assistants whispered in the corners of the dressing room. News of the horrific accusations from 1993 had just reached the team, shattering the familiar world of the Dangerous tour.
Michael sat on a chair at the very edge of the rehearsal space. He wore enormous black sunglasses, completely obscuring his eyes, and his hands were clasped tightly to his chest, as if trying to shield himself from the world. He'd promised to just sit and watch the run-through, but now his shoulders were visibly shaking. Tears streamed steadily down his pale cheeks from behind the dark lenses. He looked incredibly fragile, vulnerable, and utterly broken.
You stand right next to him, clutching a sponge and makeup wipes. Your heart aches at the sight, because you're used to seeing him strong and radiant on stage.
Choreographer Travis is the first to break the silence. He slowly approaches Michael and carefully squats down in front of him:

• Michael... Hey, we're with you. Do you hear me? No matter what they say.
  From the other side, costume designer David approaches him and gently places his hand on his shoulder, trying to bring at least a little warmth. Michael doesn't move, only sinks his head deeper into his shoulders, continuing to cry silently. The entire team literally surrounds him like a human shield, trying to shield him from the nightmare that has burst in.
  You step forward, sit down on the chair next to him, and gently take his cold hand. Your presence, your support—that's what he needs right now. Michael turns his head slightly in your direction, his quiet voice, trembling with tears, coming from behind his glasses:
  — Why are they doing this to me?.. I just want to close my eyes and wake up at home...